I love bread. Warm and gooey right out of the oven; crispy and crunchy smothered with jam; hugging ham and cheese or with a French twist. Bread and I have history together. I thought we'd be together forever. So it's with a heavy heart that I write this Dear John to my carby companion.

Now that I'm stuck on the bench for the next month or so with this broken rib, I needed to find something to offset all that inactivity. And while I care deeply for all things carb, I knew he wasn't a good influence on me. I knew we had to break up.

First, let's get something out of the way: I don't hate babies. I get them, I totally do. You have a baby, it changes your life. Weird evolutional switches you had in your brain that you didn't know were there get flipped. You become a different person. Your life stops being about you, and it starts being about the baby.

It's been a busy few days in the Byte-Sized office - and apparently we've got to batten down those dang hatches for Hurricane Earl, which could pop his delightfully scruffy face up here 'round about Friday.

I don't know if I'm still qualified to write this health and fitness blog. Last week, I crashed my bike, broke a rib and banged up my shoulder. Now I eat ice cream for breakfast and break a sweat just trying to scoop it!

The last weekend of summer is usually a pretty weak one in terms of releases, and this weekend is no different. However, if you can wait a few more days, one of this year's most intriguing looking movies (to me anyway) is hitting theaters.